


In the Grip of the Forest

by YamaguchisCunt



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animal Traits, Body Horror, Breeding, Come Marking, Forced Feminization, Forced Pregnancy, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Past Abuse, Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamaguchisCunt/pseuds/YamaguchisCunt
Summary: Shigeru leaves the witch's house, eighteen years of age, seeking that which he was denied by her.He will find no such freedom within the forest.





	1. New Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This work will contain instances of rape. It will contain instances of undesired sex changes. It will contain pregnancy being forced on characters that are highly distressed by the idea. It will contain instances of characters who are good people in canon behaving in ways that are very much unbecoming.
> 
> This work will not contain anything resembling a happy ending. 
> 
> If you find this distressing, displeasing, or potentially triggering in anyway, please continue no further. 
> 
> If you continue to read despite misgivings, I cannot be held responsible for your emotional state. 
> 
> This work, in addition to the main pairing, will likely feature side pairings of Oikawa x Kageyama, Iwaizumi x Yamaguchi, and Tanaka and Noya x Ennoshita. Further pairings and characters may be added during development.

The witch that raised Shigeru, though never warm to him, had her small kindnesses—perhaps even mistakable for ‘tough love’ by those that didn't know her. Realistically, her motivation was solely the preservation of her unwilling assistant. Any concern for his well-being extended only as far as he was useful to her, as her beatings often made clear. Still, he was grateful for her lessons (better likened to drunken ramblings) of the world's nature. How life cares little for fairness, how women turn on sisters, how men will leave you whenever the whim strikes them. To these wisdoms, he took well. The world worked a certain way, and for that knowledge, he was grateful.

When he came into his magic, as she knew he would (it was, she had told him, why she had even bothered to take him in, for it made him ‘a useful battery, at least’), she even taught him how to use the magic. It was, as always, not out of any genuine feeling for him, but rather in the interest of keeping him from accidentally burning down her hut. An untrained mage can lose control of themselves, after all. 

(The witch had used this fact to taunt him often. She informed him that she hadn’t even needed to kidnap him, for his parents begged her to take him when they realized he was a mage. She told him that even if he escaped her, no warmth would wait in the towns and cities, where the common folk hate and fear magic users like themselves. She told him that without her, his magic would twist and distort his body, make a hideous animal out of him, drive him to insanity with unending agony.)

She showed him how to conjure and contain fire, to take one’s energy and convert it into pure flame, to make anger real, tangible, dangerous. (But never dangerous to her, her magic stifling his, keeping him in check, in line.) 

He’d watch her, when the well dried, use her rods to divine where next to make him dig. He’d witness her magics call forth and tame lightning, how she’d command tree roots to grow in ways she found pleasing, or hew bricks from stone with little effort.

Tragically, not all of her teachings had held.

“Do not,” she had told him, after belting him for trying to run, “enter the woods, lest you'd like to end up as some feral’s meal, or worse.”

Having spent several days prior shivering in the underbrush, hungry, flinching at shadows, before she had finally discovered and beaten him, he had understood this as being a lesson on him depending on her for food, water, shelter, and life, whether he liked it or not.

But he was older now, eighteen years of age, and believed himself to be wiser, stronger. He had his magics, learned from studying the witch’s work when he could, and thought that surely he was capable of surviving the woods, and so he braved them, seeking freedom, independence. 

He would learn in time that his magical fire did not burn as warmly or brightly as the real thing, that it was a pale imitation.

He would learn in time that though his magic could lead him to water, it could not clean it. 

He would learn in time that carving shelter from stone was not feasible to mages of so few years. 

He would learn in time that there was no freedom to be found in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any requests (no promises, but certain actions involving my pinned post may help your case) or complaints (I enjoy them very much) you can find me on twitter at: twitter.com/bottomyamaguchi


	2. Waxing Cresent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shigeru is courted in an entirely proper manner by a true gentleman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please be aware of the content of this story before you continue.

The hag would not be coming for him. 

She had a new little brat to suck dry, now, had for some time. One too young to really understand what she was—and too young for her to leave alone whilst chasing after a boy far too old to control. Not to mention, few are the mages unaffected by the passing of years.

Nothing of this was uncertain. She was too frail to chase after him; hadn’t even been able to beat him these past few years (perhaps the reason he felt such little guilt about leaving the new boy behind). He was not worth the time or energy spent in a search, nor was anything he took, all of little value, all having replacements and substitutes. She had not the power or the need.

And so, he could no longer blame her for his feeling small and unsafe, curled in on himself in front of a weak fire as the sun set, suffering an empty belly. 

The buzz of having left her faded quickly, it seems, when fishing required much more skill than he assumed. For hours, he’d stood over the river with a makeshift spear, grazing fish barely, until he’d scared away any potential meal, forced to scrounge for the berries and nuts he’d been taught were safe to eat. 

He’d tried to carve out a shelter in a rock face, but his magic barely made a dent. He tried to command the roots of the trees, but they did not heed his call. 

His plan of trekking until he could reach a city had seemed much less daunting when he was still living in the only home he had ever known. 

Still, he wouldn’t take it back. He was stronger than that, had survived her, could survive this. He could bear with cold fires, and laying his bedroll on damp dirt, and going hungry a few nights. None of it compared to life with her.

Not even the noises outside his camp, however much on edge they had him. 

But, he reminded himself, it wasn’t her. So he could handle this.

He stood, clutching the kitchen knife he’d taken with him, had held onto like a lifeline. Slowly, he crept to the edge of his camp, blade warily held out, eyes scanning the treeline.

And then he heard a twig snap. 

And then he heard a breath.

And then he heard what sounded too close to the fall of human, boot-wearing feet rushing off. 

His stomach twisted. Had someone been watching him? Had the hag hired someone to look for him, instead?

He couldn’t let himself rest on the possibilities. He followed the steps. 

“Hey! Stop!” 

He couldn’t see anything clearly, not with the light dying like it was, but he saw vague shadows darting just beyond his view. More than once, the person made a sudden turn, forcing Shigeru to do the same, losing momentum each time while they seemed to only gain speed. 

“Who are you! Why were you watching me!” 

At this point, Shigeru couldn’t even see the shadowy figure anymore, between distance and dying sunlight, only hear their rapidly dimming footfall.

Tripping, he finally lost the watcher’s trail for good. Frustrated, he stabbed the ground, panting. 

“Get back here!” 

He couldn’t be sure if the man had heard him, but he could be sure of one thing: he didn’t listen. Having spent several pained moments sitting there, he neither heard nor saw any sign of whoever he had been chasing. So he stood, recuperated at least partially, and turned, facing his second problem of his night. 

He didn’t know how to get back to his camp. 

For a few hours, he’d stumble through the darkening woods, guided only by the light of quarter moon above. Eventually, he’d find the river he’d been travelling beside ever since leaving the witch, and follow it back to where his meager fire had burned out, ready to follow suit curled up in his thin, scratchy sheets. Exhausted, he kneeled, reaching to roll the sheets out so he could get in.

But there was something there. Wet, thick, sticky. He didn’t need the dying embers of his fire to know what it was—he’d felt it once before when he was younger, curious, before the witch threatened to neuter him if he ever acted on his ‘disgusting male tendencies’ in her hut again. 

Whoever had been watching him had made it back before him. And masturbated onto his belongings. 

He left the sheets behind. Even if he could stomach carrying them around after what… what the pervert had done to them, he sort of puked on them, and that wasn’t coming out. 

Whatever. All he needed was his bag.

It was better, anyways. He could travel lighter like this, move faster. And the sooner he got out of these gods forsaken woods, the sooner he could rest easy. 

The moon hung low as he made his way through the unmarked paths of the forest, carved by the beasts that called it home over years, with walls made of trees that were acclimated to the magic touched lands of the north, tall and wide and in vibrant shades of deep, rich purple, a faint pulsing glow shining through their bark at random intervals, casting Shigeru in unearthly light as he moved. A few oaks seemed normal, in size and color, but if he stopped to catch his breath on one, they’d soon ooze a red sap that smelled of iron and had the hue to match. Neither tree did any favors to his frayed nerves, nor did the imposing quiet. It was worse, however, when broken. The flapping of wings, the hoot of an owl. The snapping of twigs, the breathing of a nocturnal creature. Each and every sound, however rare, made him jump, quicken his pace, eyes darting into shadowy corners unilluminated by the horrible flora around him. 

At one point, he heard a quiet growl, felt eyes on him, and he ran. He don’t know if it followed. The pounding of his heart in his ears made it impossible to listen for pursuit. When he was too tired to run anymore, he tried to convince himself he had imagined it in his paranoia. But he never was good at lying to himself. 

He didn’t hear anything else that night, but he was certain something was watching him all the same. 

He kept moving until morning broke. Until the sunrise was long over. Kept moving until he couldn’t any more.

Alone, in a small clearing by the same stupid river, he fell asleep. He dreamt of the moon, and wolves chasing it across the sky. 

When he woke, he would find that he was alone no longer. 

He’d been curled up on his side, huddled as closely to himself as possible, facing the river. The intruder was behind him, silent. But Shigeru could hear him, breathing. 

In the sky, the sun had already begun its descent towards the horizon. 

Shigeru was unmoving, as was the stranger. His throat had gone dry, his fingers cold, nails digging into the dirt. For several minutes, they stayed like that, tense.

Then the man took a step forward.

In the same moment as he felt bile flare up his throat and recede, his hand shot out for his knife—

—It wasn’t there.

His stomach twisted as he kicked his legs, rolling over and onto his ass, turned to face the man as he scrambled away, soon standing on unsteady, shaking legs.

The man was shorter than himself, he realized, but it didn’t mean much when he was built much broader. He wore pants, and an animal fur tied around his waist with a belt,and he wore heavy leather boots. There was no shirt to speak of, just a fur cloak draped over his shoulders, giving Shigeru an uncensored view of his hard chest. His eyes were almost feral, brown and dark rimmed, a sharp glare on them. Dark, short hair was cropped close to his head.

He’d stalked further. 

“Stop. Tell me who you are!” 

The snarl on his face twists into a demented sneer. “I’m your alpha, bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a lovely and romantic manner to introduce yourself to your future mate, right?
> 
> Comments and criticism welcome.


	3. First Quarter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A romantic consummation.

“I’m your alpha, bitch.” 

Shigeru was confused. But more than that, he was angry. He was angry. He was angry that this this man had followed him, spied on him, ruined his things. And then, he didn’t even have the decency to explain himself, explain why he was stalking him, why he’d terrorized him. Shigeru was confused, yes, but he was also pissed as hell. 

“What… What does that even _mean_? Who the _fuck_ are you? Why won’t you leave me _alone_?” He demanded, storming up to the savage before him, fear forgotten. 

You could say Shigeru was smart. You could say he was brave, too. However, in that moment, he was only one of those things, when he would’ve benefited from the other more. 

The brute’s hand snaps at his wrist like a snake, wrenching him forward. 

Unprepared, and stunned by the sudden pain, there’s nothing Shigeru can do to stop himself from losing his balance, falling into his attacker’s hard and unyielding chest. Before he can recover, an arm wraps around his waist, pinning him. The grip on his wrist is harsh and bruising as he tries and fails to pull away from the man, barely even moving the freakishly large hand. 

“It means,” he says, staring down at Shigeru, suddenly feeling much smaller in his clutches, “that you belong to _me._ ”

Sickness stirs in Shigeru’s stomach, a feeling that was quickly starting to feel far too familiar since he began braving the forest. “Let go,” he demands, but it comes out shaky and quiet. He tries to muster any scrap of bravery he has left from his earlier burst of anger, tries to steady his breathing. “Let go!” 

The bastard smirks. His canines look… awfully sharp. “You’ve got a lot to learn, _omega_ ,” he growls, looking almost excited, “I can’t wait to teach you.”

The hand on Yahaba's hip crawls up as he speaks, til it rests behind his neck. And as the man, the alpha, pulls him forward, he bares his sharp teeth, tilts his head, and bites.

Yahaba screams until his throat goes raw, until his breath runs out. He doesn't even realize he's crying until he has to breathe, and dimly recognizes the presence of a tongue at his wound, lapping up blood. When the pressure on the back of his neck gives, palm letting sweaty skin breath, Shigeru feels his legs quiver, before giving out. The brute lets him fall to his hands and knees. But just as soon as he's on the ground, a fist in his hair pulls him up sharply.

Snot-nosed, red faced, he’s forced to stare up at his attacker with teary eyes.

“Your alphas name is Kyoutani Kentarou,” he states, not an ounce of empathy in his eyes as he looks down on him. “Let's make sure you remember that, bitch.” 

Kentarou's free hand moves to loose his belt buckle, as Shigeru watches, broken. His pants and furs fall away, and even flaccid, his cock is a monster. Just looking at it is harrowing. It looks thick enough that Shigeru would only just be able to wrap his hand around it, though, mercifully, only slightly longer than his own length. Kentarou’s hand traces his jawline as Shigeru whimpers pathetically, almost a caress, before he forces his thumb in, prying his mouth open. He guides Shigeru to his crotch, until it's all he can see, the thick musk all he can smell.

“Use your tongue, if you know what’s good for you.”

Shigeru hesitates for but a moment, and Kentarou growls, thrusting forward. The hardening cock enters his mouth, uncaring of his gagging.

“Use. Your. Tongue. Or should I take your ass instead?”

With a broken sob, muffled by the cock, Shigeru begins working his tongue along the shaft. It’s not skilled by any means; he hasn’t even met any other men in his life, so far as he could remember, let alone had any sexual experiences with any. Kentarou gives a frustrated sigh, but seems satisfied with his effort. 

“That’s a good bitch. Keep at it, omega.”

It isn’t exactly confidence budding in Shigeru, or at least he wouldn’t want to call it that, but he picks up in pace regardless. As his tongue lathers against the underside of the cock, he can feel Kentarou’s pulse, and the sensation briefly raises bile in his throat. But the cock continues to harden despite his distaste for it. At some point, the thumb leaves his mouth, Kentarou apparently secure in the idea that Shigeru wouldn’t dare bite him. And he’s right. Shigeru only closes his lips around the length, taking the cue to suck at it. Kentarou grunts with appreciation, and Shigeru’s stomach twists harder than it had ever before.

“You’re learning. Good,” Kentarou affirms, “but not fast enough.”

As Shigeru inhales in terror, Kentarou pulls completely out, and in one swift movement, slams back in, crotch slapping against his lips, cockhead brushing against the back of his throat. Again, the thumb finds it’s place holding his teeth back in light of Shigeru’s violent gagging, forcing his mouth open as he struggles to breathe amidst the violent motions. 

And then, it stops. Kentarou shuddering, as the shaking boy in front of him feels his knot forming in his mouth, confused and crying and drooling. ‘ _Just like an omega should be,_ ’ he thinks, smiling cruelly. They said it’d feel like this. Said the act of domination over the omega meant for him would be the most amazing thing he ever felt. That there was nothing like claiming a bitch. His bitch. His _girl_. 

“What a good slut you’ve been,” he says, and comes. He doesn’t let Shigeru pass out until he’s sure he’s swallowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short maybe, but it seemed a good place to leave off.
> 
> If you have any requests (no promises, but certain actions involving my pinned post may help your case) or complaints (I enjoy them very much) you can find me on twitter at: twitter.com/bottomyamaguchi

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests (no promises, but certain actions involving my pinned post may help your case) or complaints (I enjoy them very much) you can find me on twitter at: twitter.com/bottomyamaguchi


End file.
